


The Flower Shop

by ABitchDoesNotADomMake



Category: Daredevil (TV), MCU, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Just Atmospheric Fluff, thank you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-07
Updated: 2016-05-07
Packaged: 2018-06-07 00:55:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6778234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ABitchDoesNotADomMake/pseuds/ABitchDoesNotADomMake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a bit of background fluff for BohemianRhapsody86's wonderful world...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Flower Shop

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BohemianRhapsody86](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BohemianRhapsody86/gifts).



> If you haven't been reading Murdock's Tennessee Flower by BohemianRhapsody86, stop now, go read that, and come on back when you are done. You'll thank me.

 

 

The Flower Shop

 

            The scents, when combined, were nearly overwhelming.  Roses and carnations and daisies and gardenias all mixing together to create such a strong scent that he could taste it on the back of his tongue.  The space was cluttered with displays and buckets of flowers, making Matt take cautious steps through the maze towards the counter where over the tapping of his cane he could hear the sound of paper rustling, scissors snipping away, and a faint humming.  The movement of the air currents let Matt know that he had the clerk’s attention, and he cleared his throat. 

            “Hi.  I am looking for some flowers.  Well, a flower in particular, really.”  The clerk smiled at him, and then, seeing the cane, blushed. 

            “Of course” she said, coming around the edge of the counter.  “You said in particular.  So what are you looking for?”

            “I need an Iris.” Matt could feel himself blushing as he said it. 

            “What color would you like?  We have some really beautiful variegated ones that just came in.”  Matt paused for a moment.  It hadn’t occurred to him that there might be colors to choose from.  After a moment he pulled out his phone and spoke into it.

            “State Flower, Tennessee. Image.”  He held out the phone to the clerk, and she nodded. 

            “So purple, then.  I can do that.  Give me just a minute.”  She walked away from him, and he could hear refrigerator doors opening and closing as she gathered what she needed.  He shifted from one foot to another for a moment before speaking up.

            “If you could, I would like to touch them, feel them, and pick one?  If you have a few to choose from, that is.”

            The sound of the refrigerator door opening again was accompanied by the clerk saying “Certainly.  I have about a half dozen of them here.  Will that be enough for you to make a selection from?”

            “Yes, thank you” came his reply.  He stepped towards the counter, hands out in front of him until he felt the edge.  He listened as she laid out the flowers on the counter, noting where she laid them down so that he wouldn’t need to fumble too badly as he touched them.  He reached forward, selecting the first stem and picked it up gently.  Running his fingers slowly up the stem he smiled, noting its thickness and smooth texture.  As he reached the petals the clerk took a rushed in breath, which he took to mean he should be careful not to damage them.  Softly, almost tenderly, he ran just the tips of two fingers across the satiny falls, feeling their shape, the ruffled edges, and the soft, silky texture of them.  His fingertips found the center of the flower, with its slightly fuzzy beard.

            “It isn’t completely purple, by the way.  There are spots of yellow in it, there, near the center where your fingers are right now” she told him.  He nodded, setting down the first flower and moving on through all six of them.  Some were coarser than others, grown differently, perhaps.  Some were more open, some closer to buds.  After touching all six, he went back to the third one he had handled, picking it up again and bringing it up to his nose to breathe in deeply. 

            “Irises don’t have much in the way of a scent” the clerk said, but Matt was picking up subtle hints of violet or something like that, not cloyingly sweet, but sweet never the less.  He touched the flower to his lips, feeling again the particularly silky feel of this particular flower.  It felt, against his lips, like her skin felt against his fingertips.  Silken softness that begged to be kissed.  He smiled and extended the flower to the clerk, who took it gently and began wrapping it with a few sprigs of fern (which smelled earthy to Matt, a nice balance to the iris, in his opinion).

            Matt left the store with the flower cradled carefully to his chest, walking out into crisp, cold sunlight, a wistful smile on his lips.  For a few moments he let his thoughts dwell on how much he wished he could see her eyes, her smile, when he gave her the flower.  He shook off the melancholy thought as he began to walk back towards his home, anticipating instead, giving an iris to his Iris.


End file.
